


light that kept me going

by bxnelight



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bad Parenting, Childhood Friends, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, happy ending i'm not an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 20:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bxnelight/pseuds/bxnelight
Summary: Childhood friends are just that, they exist in a colourful part of your memory and they leave something sweet behind as they go. But when Helen left, it was as if she took a huge part of Aline with her.Life goes on, even if it feels like a huge part of what makes you the happiest was torn from you.





	light that kept me going

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever fic published :') i have no idea what tags to put and how everything works but i hope i got it right!! 
> 
> this fic is part of the SH WLW bingo, by @shwlwficlibrary on twitter. i'm part of team blue, together with rudy (humansunshine on ao3/harryshumsbitch on twitter) and kristen (supersapphics on ao3/super_sapphics on twitter), and the prompt fulfilled here is "childhood friends to lovers".
> 
> i hope you like it and if you do, please yell at me on twitter @bxnelight!!
> 
> this work is unbeta-ed and all mistakes are my own.

The first time she saw the girl, the girl was crouched down on the grass, picking at the earth below her fingers listlessly. Beside her, there was a stack of books that looked thoroughly used, though there almost seemed to be an intangible tension between them and that blonde haired girl. On her other side was a fragile looking bow made entirely out of twine and branches, and a stack of twigs that supposedly were the arrows.

“That bow can’t actually shoot arrows, you know.” Aline stepped off the sandy path and onto the grass patch.

The blonde-haired girl startled, turning her head to see who it was. Aline plopped down onto the grass next to the girl, offering the metal bow in her hands to her. 

“Here’s a proper bow. Shoots real arrows and all that.” The girl took the bow in her hands, running her fingers over the runed length of the bow. There was a spark in her eyes that wasn’t there before, and Aline immediately decided that she liked it. 

By dusk, Aline had learned that the girl had the prettiest name, Helen Blackthorn, and was decently skilled in archery despite having only a flimsy bow to practice with before. They had shot arrows after arrows at the bullseye on the tree, until it was too dark out to even see the bullseye anymore.

That patch of grass next to the river, that spot on the tree trunk worn from the arrows, the two adjacent rocks Aline and Helen used as short stools. These all soon became their place, the place Helen would come to associate with just being. It was where she did not have to carry the weight of her family’s expectations on her small shoulders. Where she did not have tutors breathing down her neck every second, where the minutes ebbed and flowed and weren’t the strict, exacting lessons her life was broken down into. And coming to this place meant that she got to see Aline, the girl who seemed to burn brighter than any flame. Aline always had interesting things to share, and existed like she was free to be. Each day, as they had to go their separate paths back home, the world around her suddenly seemed so quiet and dull without Aline’s presence and bright laughter. 

Helen knew her time with Aline was short-lived, and she held onto every minute as much as she could. It wasn’t going to be much longer before the Institution noted her absence from classes and the news would make its way to her parents. Although they are miles away, in another country, Helen felt her parents’ grasp on her tighten day by day, tangible and suffocating, and she wanted nothing but to get away from it all. It was as if she would never be loved by them if she didn’t return the perfect student, the pristine and subservient daughter they’ve always tried molding her into. Somehow, the only times the weight of their fists ever left her shoulders were when Aline was there. 

“It must be nice to be able to do whatever you love to do.” Helen thought out loud one day, while braiding a stalk of baby’s breath into Aline’s hair. “I wish these kind of days could be forever.”

“You know it can’t.” Aline had a certain sadness to her voice and Helen hated that she put it there. They spent the rest of their afternoon in the easiest of silences, gently braiding flowers into their hairs and feeling the grass beneath their backs at they stared at the clouds until the sky slowly turned darker and darker, and they had to say goodbye. 

Helen knew, the second she stepped into the halls of the Institution and was promptly ushered into the Headmaster’s office, that she was going to miss her freedom. She never expected to open the door to the fierce glares of her parents. She knew it was coming, yet it didn’t make it any less disappointing when her parents informed her that she will be returning home for the remainder of her studies so they can keep a closer eye on her. It suddenly hit her how much she wished she had more time with Aline, and how she had spent so many afternoons in her company that she just can’t imagine spending anymore without her energy filling the air. 

The day that Helen had to leave, she spent twenty minutes gripping that piece of paper in her hand, pacing around the grass patch before laying it down on the rock Aline always sits on. 

All Aline sees when she reaches their place was a letter weighed down by a leather bound book, and no one in sight.

\-----------

At first, the letters came in every week, carrying stories of Helen’s new life back home, of how much she missed Aline and how different the world seemed to work when they were apart. And each time, Aline would send a letter back by the next morning, gifting her words of encouragement and stories of her own. 

She didn’t realise how accustomed she grew to opening her letterbox to Helen’s letter every weekend, until the letters came less often, and until they stopped coming altogether. Aline still sent her letters every week, regardless of how much she felt as if she was screaming into a void.

Life goes on, even if it feels like a huge part of what makes you the happiest was torn from you.

\----------

The next time Aline hears that familiar voice call out her name, she almost didn't dare turn around.

“Aline.” 

It had been seven years. When she turned around, Helen looked every bit the same reserved, endlessly kind and beautiful girl from all those years ago. Tears welled up in her cerulean eyes, as she looked back at Aline, mouth agape from the unexpectedness of their meeting.

Aline reached up and wiped off the tear that fell from Helen’s cheek, and it was as if the rest of the tears followed in an unbroken stream once the first one broke free. The hug that followed was suffocatingly tight, but for them, it was nothing but relief and reminisce. 

“Helen.”

They muffled their sobs into each others’ shoulders, standing gripped against each other in the soft darkness of the night. 

\---------------

They stood shoulder to shoulder, looking at the bicycle stand where there were once two stool-like rocks and a tall tree. 

“One day it was still a little clearing by the river and the next week it was this.” Aline looked over at Helen. She was still so breathtakingly beautiful. Her blonde hair just slightly shimmered in the moonlight, and the seven years that went by all but gave her the loveliest curve to her cheekbones. 

Aline shoved her hands in her pockets, harshly averting her eyes away from Helen. She should know better than to think of Helen in this way. Aline glared at the earth beneath her feet as she scolded herself silently. Seven years. Of wondering what growing up with Helen by her side would have been like. Of watching people fall in love around her, in books and on the television screens and only seeing Helen looking back at her when she closes her eyes. As much as possible she would shove these feelings away, telling herself that she just missed their time together too much. Childhood friends are just that, they exist in a colourful part of your memory and they leave something sweet behind as they go. But when Helen left, it was as if she took a huge part of Aline with her. 

“I came here every day after you left you know. Just in case you came back.” This finally got Helen to look at her. 

“Didn’t you read my letter?” Aline couldn’t place it but she was sure there was something like hope in Helen’s voice. She sighed deeply, stretching her arms out and strolling across the path, around the bicycle stand where the river was. 

“Of course I read your letter. But just in case you came back, at least you could find me. I missed you.” Helen didn’t reply. For a moment, a sense of dread overcame Aline. Perhaps what she said crossed the line, and she didn’t mean as much to Helen as Helen meant to her. 

The silence dragged on, and tears almost formed in Aline’s eyes from how desperately she needed to hear that Helen missed her too. She looked over and met Helen’s eyes. There were tears in them too.

“This whole time,” Helen took a breath, but her eyes stayed fixed on Aline’s. “This whole time I was away, I tried to forget you.” She brought Aline’s cold hands into her warm ones, rubbing them between her palms like how she used to do.

“I tried to move on from you. From this place. I tried to stop myself from sending out those last few letters. I tried not to read the letters you sent after. But I couldn’t.” She felt cold hands squeeze tighter around hers, almost as if too afraid that she would let go. The words were stuck in a lump in her throat and she had to swallow around it to finish her sentence.

“I don’t know if you feel… like I do for you, Aline. I… I don’t know if this is just me or-” Lips crashed against hers, cutting off her words and the breath she was going to take. The hands released their hold on hers, and left a trail of warmth where it travelled up her back and cradled her head in them. Aline kissed her like she was making up for every second of those seven years apart. Tears smudged between them, and when they finally broke apart, their foreheads came to rest on each others’. 

“I love you, Helen. I always have.” The last part was so hushed Helen almost couldn’t make it out, but felt it deeply nonetheless. She smiled against Aline’s tear-stained nose before joining their lips again. 

“You were the light that kept me going,” Helen whispered into the kiss. 

“I love you too. I always have.”


End file.
